


A Gift for the Wolves

by h_a_m



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blind Character, Disabled Character, F/M, Retelling, Solavellan Hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_a_m/pseuds/h_a_m
Summary: The gods may not have gifted Muire Lavellan with sight, but it would take a profound emptiness between the ears to barrel *towards* the snapping jaws of unknown beasts.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Retelling of DA:Inquisition where the Inquisitior, Muire Lavellan, is completely blind. Born from the angst of Bioware's Radio Silence on DA4, quarantine boredom, and a recent rewatch of Avatar: The Last Airbender. I imagine this Lavellan experiences the world in the same way as Toph, where sounds and vibrations create "images" in her head!Also just generally wanted to think about how people with disabilities would navigate/experience the DA world,,,will continue to update the rating/tags as I go!
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> long time lurker on this blasted website, but this is my first time ever posting anything like this Anywhere EVER
> 
> literally have no idea what this will look like/be but here we go
> 
> plz be gentle w me. any writing advice would be super appreciated!!
> 
> super short intro comin at u from the fade,,,

The gods may not have gifted Muire Lavellan with sight, but it would take a profound emptiness between the ears to barrel _towards_ the snapping jaws of unknown beasts.

_Chitin scrapes the ground, clicks, screeches, at least 6 shuffling appendages. Reptile? Insect?_

It hardly mattered. Muire doubts they want to cuddle.

The cacophonous sounds of her pursuers and the pounding of her own feet rattle off of the craggy rocks of their surroundings. When echoed back to Muire’s pointed ears, it provides a general image of the path ahead. Sound moves lazily, clumsily around her, obscuring the finer details of the environment. Just as she could detect and name a scent, it changes character with dizzying speed. Rotting leaves, elfroot, campfire, halla leather. These smells of Dalish life prod at the back of her mind, her memory, rendering her increasingly uneasy. Heat and cold radiate simultaneously-and evenly- from all directions. The effect is electric, benignly sizzling on the skin. Wherever the blighted hell she is, it’s highly unusual. The laws of nature ceded its dominion over this space.

If the ravenous monsters behind her are any indication, this plane is also highly dangerous.

Muire’s muscles sting with exhaustion as she reaches the bottom of an incline. Survival instincts and adrenaline push her forward, scrambling up the hill. The creatures are getting closer. She could feel her body failing her, finally giving out under the weight of her circumstances.

A warmth emitting from above cut through the fog of her disorientation. A howl tore through Muire’s throat, compelled by fatigue and the desire to ascertain the origin of the heat.

Her screams carved out a tall figure from the black. Hooded robes, an outstretched hand. Fairly certain she wouldn’t be reaching for a claw or carapace, Muire throws all of her weight in the general direction of the stranger on top of the hill.

She lands with a thud on debris and gravel, pebbles pricking at her skin. Sound waves move at a normal speed. Smell returns. Ash, earth, and blood.

Muire hears armor-clad bodies rushing towards her as she submits to the growing darkness at the edges of her vision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muire wakes up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh wow crazy that anyone would read this let alone comment or kudos. thank you all. I feel encouraged and inspired!
> 
> for this chapter i wrote in the past tense to see how it felt. I like it! probably going to continue using that.
> 
> it also occurred to me while writing this that it would be Impossible for bioware to tell the DA:I story without a sighted protagonist!!! that's kinda icky to me 
> 
> if you have any advice plz plz let me know !! thx

Muire awoke in chains. 

She sat up, maneuvering around the shackles, and began combing through her encyclopedic knowledge of Keeper Deshanna’s fireside tales. She searched stories of the Dalish escaping shemlen slavers. Her heart sank to her stomach when she found none. 

Sizzles and pops rang out from her left palm. She bawled her fingers into a fist, prodding at the gash that bisected her hand. When she touched it, the opening buzzed in a way that made Muire dizzy. She’d be able to investigate further when she wasn’t tied to the blasted floor. Escaping- preferably alive-was her first priority.

Muire shifted her awareness out to the rest of the room. Room? While she has spent little time indoors (crowded nights in aravels excluded), she did not anticipate her prison to be so spacious.

After hearing of the living conditions of Dalish captives in Tevinter- elves forced to dwell in densely populated squalor -she did not expect to be alone. Instead of other elves, she found herself in the presence of 4 armed shem guards. All stood at the ready, feet shoulder width apart, sword brandished in her direction. 

How did a blind elf become so valuable to a slaver? Why else would there be so many people watching her?

The soldier to the right of her had an arrhythmia. Muire would have been able to hear the irregular beat of the person’s heart from a mile away. She also would have sent them to a healer, that is, if they  _ weren’t  _ participating in her capture. With silent satisfaction, she condemned the slaver to their own fate. 

Taking all 4 of them down would have been impossible. Muire was unarmed, and her shackles were securely bolted to the floor. 

_ We are the last Elvhen. Never again shall we submit. _

She drew strength from the old words, and made a promise to all the gods that the shems wouldn’t take her alive.

She ignored the guards and the tingling in her hand to focus on two sets of footsteps approaching the room. One of them led the charge in loud, heavy armor, walking with a confidence that came from knowing just how to use all of that gear. The other had just as confident a gait. This person’s stride, however, was characterized by a silence and restraint that only a rogue would perfect. Muire likely wouldn’t have noticed the rogue’s approach if not for the blundering, loud warrior.

The door swung open, and the warrior made their way across the room like a squall. Muire said a prayer and readied herself. 

The stranger rounded on Muire, stopping behind her, and bent down to be level with her left ear. They took a breath as if to speak, and Muire began to grin wickedly. 

“ Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now-”

Muire turned her head and spit as much as her mouth could manage at the other woman’s face before she could say more. The lilt in her voice revealed that the warrior was from Nevarra, or had at least spent a lot of time there. 

The warrior took several seconds to register that mucus covered her face like a fresh coat of paint. Muire could feel the white hot fury bubbling up in her chest. The warriors pulse rose dramatically. The silent one rushed over, drawing the warrior away from Muire before she could retaliate. 

Seizing the upperhand, Muire snarled at all those who could hear. 

“FUCKING SHEM SLAVERS AND YOUR GAMES. RELEASE ME AT ONCE OR YOU SHALL DIE BY MY HAND!”

Everyone in the room inhaled sharply. Muire’s moon-white eyes glimmered with mischief.

No one spoke for several moments. 

The quiet stranger broke the silence. “We are no slavers, and you are no slave.” she answered calmly with an Orlesian accent.

“And yet I sit here in chains.” 

The Nevarran woman grunted.

“There are crimes to be answered for! The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” 

“What do you mean everyone is dead?!” the indignant elf replied. 

The Nevarran charged forward and grabbed Muire’s left wrist with great force, sending the gash on her palm into a fit of crackles. 

“Explain this.”

She threw the hand back at Muire with disgust. Chains rattled. 

“I-I cant.” The ferocity that characterized the beginning of their interaction started to bleed out of her. It was quickly replaced by terror and morbid curiosity. 

The warrior’s patience was wearing thin. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CANT?!”

“I don't know what that-” Muire raised her arms and wiggled her left hand “is. Or how it got there.”

“YOU’RE LYING!”

The Nevarran snaps, lunging at Muire, hands reaching for her throat.

Muire was sure at that moment that she was going to die. 

She dedicated her face to Falon’Din when she chose his vallaslin. Perhaps he would receive her with his favor. 

The rogue yanked Muire’s attacker back, and put her body between her and Muire. 

“We need her, Cassandra,” the rogue scolded. 

Muire made note of the warrior’s name as Cassandra took a deep breath. Satisfied that her companion wouldn’t continue attacking Muire, the rogue turned back towards the chained elf. 

Muire spoke softly. 

“ I can’t believe it. All those people… dead.”

The rogue moved towards her. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

“I remember… running. Things were chasing me and then… a woman?”

“A woman?!”

“She reached out to me, but then…” Muire possessed neither the effort nor the memory to finish her sentence. 

All the edge left Cassandra’s voice. She turned to the rogue. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” 

Leliana nodded and immediately left the room.

Cassandra walked back over to Muire and replaced her shackles with lighter bindings. Muire sighed in relief, the metal no longer digging into her wrists. She could walk again. 

She faced Cassandra, this time with no intention of spitting on her. 

“What  _ did _ happen?”

“It… will be easier to show you.”

“I highly doubt that,” Muire mumbled under her breath. 

Before they left the room, Muire told the guard to seek a healer for their heart. 

Cassandra winced. The warrior remained silent as she led Muire out into the open air. 


End file.
